before Jojo disappeared out the door, Vivian’s rage
bubbled over. She flew forward and wrenched a piece of wood off the beam then
raced toward Jojo.
She grabbed her
hair and stabbed her through the back, right into the heart.
“The thing about
being the leader is,” Vivian said in Jojo’s ear, “there’s always going to be
someone trying to stab you in the back.”
Vivian wrenched
the shard of wood out of Jojo and the girl crumbled to dust.
The other girls
stared back, shocked.
Vivian smiled.
There would be time to put them all in line. But for now, she had other
business to tend to.
She stepped over
the girl’s remains, smashed the door, and stepped out into the open, lifting up
into the air and determined, at any cost, to complete her search for Blake.
CHAPTER TEN
As Kyle paced up
the steps of the church, he sensed this was it. He’d been to several churches
in the area, but something told him this would be the right one. The windows were
all boarded up with plywood, and he could sense that evil had visited this
place. He could almost smell the girl in the air.
He found the
door of the church open and scoffed to himself. Warmth and light spilled out of
the crack, sliding down the steps like honey. The beauty of it was lost on
Kyle. The tranquility of church was just something else for him to destroy.
He’d left his teenage vampire army behind to continue the rampage he had
started, and would return for them just as soon as he found out where Scarlet
Paine was.
Kyle barged his
way through the doors, making them screech.
The place was
candlelit. Light danced off the ceiling from the little flames being stirred by
the breeze. The church was mainly empty, but a handful of people were dotted around
in the pews, praying or thumbing through the dog-eared Bibles. They glanced up
at Kyle as he thundered past, bolting down the aisle. Some stood, sensing the
danger like a sixth sense, and made their way out of the church.
Kyle stormed the
stage and stood at the altar, glaring down at the few people left in the pews.
“Where is she?
Where is Scarlet Paine?” he bellowed.
The people who
just moments earlier were basking in the calmness of the church’s atmosphere
were suddenly thrust abruptly back to reality. Kyle reveled in their frightened
gazes.
Some nearer the
doors began running down the aisle and back out into the cool evening, making
the candles quivers as they passed. Those at the front seemed too scared to
move.
Kyle leaned down
and leered in the face of an older gentleman, whose crinkled eyes creased with
terror.
“Where’s Scarlet
Paine?” Kyle demanded.
“I don’t know
who that is,” the old man replied in a cracked, aged voice.
“Who is the
priest here?” Kyle asked.
“Father
McMullen.”
Just then, Kyle
heard a shuffling noise from his right. He looked right and saw the confession
booth. The curtains were drawn.
Leaving the old
man trembling in his seat, Kyle thundered over and ripped the curtain clean off
its rail, the heavy fabric tearing from the force. A little old lady was
sitting in the booth, looking like the last person in the world who had any
sins to confess.
“Don’t hurt me,”
she cried, holding her withered hands up for protection.
Kyle snarled and
ripped the curtain from the other booth. And there sat the priest.
“Father
McMullen,” Kyle stated.
He leaned into
the booth and grabbed the man by his robes. In one fluid movement, he hauled
him out the booth and set him on his feet in front of him. The old woman
scampered away, joining the old man whom Kyle had terrorized moments before.
The two shuffled along the aisle as fast as their old legs could carry them,
crying out in watery voices that they would be calling the police. Kyle
smirked, thinking how little help they would be.
Before him,
Father McMullen trembled. His robe was all bunched up around his ears in Kyle’s
fists.
“Brother,” he
said, “I can help you. Whatever evil lurks within you,
bubbled over. She flew forward and wrenched a piece of wood off the beam then
raced toward Jojo.
She grabbed her
hair and stabbed her through the back, right into the heart.
“The thing about
being the leader is,” Vivian said in Jojo’s ear, “there’s always going to be
someone trying to stab you in the back.”
Vivian wrenched
the shard of wood out of Jojo and the girl crumbled to dust.
The other girls
stared back, shocked.
Vivian smiled.
There would be time to put them all in line. But for now, she had other
business to tend to.
She stepped over
the girl’s remains, smashed the door, and stepped out into the open, lifting up
into the air and determined, at any cost, to complete her search for Blake.
CHAPTER TEN
As Kyle paced up
the steps of the church, he sensed this was it. He’d been to several churches
in the area, but something told him this would be the right one. The windows were
all boarded up with plywood, and he could sense that evil had visited this
place. He could almost smell the girl in the air.
He found the
door of the church open and scoffed to himself. Warmth and light spilled out of
the crack, sliding down the steps like honey. The beauty of it was lost on
Kyle. The tranquility of church was just something else for him to destroy.
He’d left his teenage vampire army behind to continue the rampage he had
started, and would return for them just as soon as he found out where Scarlet
Paine was.
Kyle barged his
way through the doors, making them screech.
The place was
candlelit. Light danced off the ceiling from the little flames being stirred by
the breeze. The church was mainly empty, but a handful of people were dotted around
in the pews, praying or thumbing through the dog-eared Bibles. They glanced up
at Kyle as he thundered past, bolting down the aisle. Some stood, sensing the
danger like a sixth sense, and made their way out of the church.
Kyle stormed the
stage and stood at the altar, glaring down at the few people left in the pews.
“Where is she?
Where is Scarlet Paine?” he bellowed.
The people who
just moments earlier were basking in the calmness of the church’s atmosphere
were suddenly thrust abruptly back to reality. Kyle reveled in their frightened
gazes.
Some nearer the
doors began running down the aisle and back out into the cool evening, making
the candles quivers as they passed. Those at the front seemed too scared to
move.
Kyle leaned down
and leered in the face of an older gentleman, whose crinkled eyes creased with
terror.
“Where’s Scarlet
Paine?” Kyle demanded.
“I don’t know
who that is,” the old man replied in a cracked, aged voice.
“Who is the
priest here?” Kyle asked.
“Father
McMullen.”
Just then, Kyle
heard a shuffling noise from his right. He looked right and saw the confession
booth. The curtains were drawn.
Leaving the old
man trembling in his seat, Kyle thundered over and ripped the curtain clean off
its rail, the heavy fabric tearing from the force. A little old lady was
sitting in the booth, looking like the last person in the world who had any
sins to confess.
“Don’t hurt me,”
she cried, holding her withered hands up for protection.
Kyle snarled and
ripped the curtain from the other booth. And there sat the priest.
“Father
McMullen,” Kyle stated.
He leaned into
the booth and grabbed the man by his robes. In one fluid movement, he hauled
him out the booth and set him on his feet in front of him. The old woman
scampered away, joining the old man whom Kyle had terrorized moments before.
The two shuffled along the aisle as fast as their old legs could carry them,
crying out in watery voices that they would be calling the police. Kyle
smirked, thinking how little help they would be.
Before him,
Father McMullen trembled. His robe was all bunched up around his ears in Kyle’s
fists.
“Brother,” he
said, “I can help you. Whatever evil lurks within you,
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